We All Have a Sob Story
by I'm just a simple human Being
Summary: “Oh boo hoo. You have a sob story. We all have a sob story. So don't think you're so special or different just because you're hurting. Cause here's a secret. We’re all hurting.” Trory!Rating for mature content.


**We All Have a Sob Story**

Summary: "Oh boo hoo. You have a sob story. We all have a sob story. So don't think you're so special or different just because you're hurting. Cause here's a secret. We're all hurting..." Trory!

Authors Note: Somewhat AU, but it's believable, I think. Inspired from things such as books, TV, life, and movies. I know it's so broad.

Chapter 1: Secrets tear you up

They were fighting again. As usual in the Hayden household it was over the same old stuff, but mainly Rory. Christopher would be throwing a smart remark out about how if Lorelai had gotten an abortion when she found out she was pregnant he would never be working for some ridiculous financial firm and he would've gotten to accomplish his dream of becoming a journalist.

And right about the time all this was being yelled Rory would walk into the foyer after school, and was able to hear how much of a regret she really was. At least to her father.

And as usual she would go up the two stories of stairs to her room, her sanctuary, and find ways to entertain herself.

Now usually she would just open her cabinet and grab two things. A piece of shard glass, and a whiskey flask.

Killing two birds with one stone she could control the pain and drink it away.

It had been a cycle for her for years. Ever since she was fourteen, she would do this. And the dangerous thing about it was she had been getting better about hiding it.

No one at school knew. Even the countless times she had been careless about it, dropping her kit, which had scissors and blades in it, just in case.

She assumed they just wanted to pretend it wasn't there so they chose to not know. She wanted an escape and she would get one soon.

* * *

Monday morning finally came for Rory. All weekend her parents fought and as a result she had eight new scars, and didn't remember half of them. Yeah that whiskey sure was a help.

When she walked into the school building she didn't talk to anyone. She headed straight to her locker and put her books away.

Making sure her history project was in perfect order for second period she closed the locker door and walked to English for first period.

During first hour she had asked to be excused to go use the bathroom and the teacher allowed it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Witter."

"You're quite welcome dear."

* * *

Walking out the classroom door she headed straight for her locker and to that special kit of hers.

Spinning the combination around she succeeded, grabbed it, and headed for a temporary sanctuary, the restroom.

Making sure no one was her she sighed relieved and leaned over the sing opening her kit.

Taking the scissors out while talking to herself about how much she hated her life, she began to sob.

Fighting to keep the tears under control she began to cut. It felt good to be in control of the pain.

Instead of her parents or some stupid socialites' words making her hurt, it was her that had control over that now.

"I can't believe my life is this bad. Nobody else feels like this. My parents don't want me and blame me for the way their lives are," she sobbed as she continued her task.

* * *

Consequently right then and there the bathroom stall opened.

And she was faced with Angela Richards.

Angela Richards was a loner and perfect, or so it seemed. Apparently she wasn't Rory found out.

See, Angela Richards was the typical socialite daughter. Her father cheated on her mother, and her mother ignored it. She wasn't raised to love. And she certainly wasn't aloud to cry about her problems. She wasn't one to let people walk all over. She was the result of a dysfunctional family so she saw Rory as crying out for attention about the stupidest things.

"Oh boo hoo. You have a sob story. We all have a sob story. So don't think you're so special or different just because you're hurting. Cause here's a secret. We're all hurting. So why don't you go cry a little more," Angela said as she walked out of the bathroom without feeling a bit of guilt.

"I'm so sick of all these people complaining. We're all screwed up; we have been since we were born. Deal with it," she thought as she left and went back to class.

* * *

AN: ok so this is my new story. Reviews welcome. Tell me what you think. Should I keep going? Trory part will be up soon. I'm just setting it up. Read and review and critiques are also welcome. Push the pretty blue button.

Hales!


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